


limitless cosmic dance

by how_to_sit_gay



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Depression, F/F, Yaz is far from coping, general warning for mental health issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:27:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27996033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/how_to_sit_gay/pseuds/how_to_sit_gay
Summary: With a sigh, Yaz regarded her handiwork. The softly illuminated wall in front of her was filled top to the brim with post-it notes of every colour, the in reality white light now casting rainbows over the floor.Rainbows.They always made her think of her.(But what didn't.)
Relationships: Jack Harkness & Yasmin Khan, Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 11
Kudos: 41





	limitless cosmic dance

**Author's Note:**

> This came to me this morning while listening to Last Light by Tonight Alive and I highly recommend you to listen to it too!
> 
> I just want my baby to be well again and...🥺

She stuck the bright pink note over the yellow one. Which was halfway covering a purple one.

With a sigh, Yaz regarded her handiwork. The softly illuminated wall in front of her was filled top to the brim with post-it notes of every colour, the in reality white light now casting rainbows over the floor. 

Rainbows. 

They always made her think of her. 

(But what didn't.) 

Looking at her research was a sore reminder of the passage of time - the time without the Doctor. Neat letters and words had gotten messier as the months passed by, a chronology of her own mental decay, thrown into her face in her own handwriting and cheery colours. 

The ship gave a low chirp and she turned around to trace her hand over the console in a manner that was probably more soothing for her than for the TARDIS. _Her_ TARDIS. Somewhere along the line Yaz had started calling her - was it even a her? Were all TARDISes female or were there other genders as well? - hers, even if she was still unable to fly her. 

Her home. Albeit the wrong one. Maybe she could ask her to change the white light into something more warm and amber, she wondered. No, better not, the thought alone felt like a betrayal of some sorts.

It had been a slow but inevitable process getting to this point, looking back on it. 

In the beginning all three of them had turned the whole ship over her head multiple times in search of any way to find the Doctor, or at least find out what had happened to her, but it had been to no avail, each and every trail turning into a dead end. Soon afterwards, either put off by never ending frustration or simply accepting they’d never find her, Ryan and Graham had tagged along less and less when Yaz had come in for yet another attempt, until they had stopped by merely once a week to check up on her.

( _“Yaz, mate, don’ tell me y’living in here now.”_

_“Don’t be daft, why’d you even think that?”_

_“There’s a well used bedroom down the hall an’ lots of toiletries in the bathroom.”_

_“I don-- were you snoopin’?! It’s... not what it looks like, okay, I just crash here sometimes when it gets too late to go back home.”_

_“Mhm. If y’say so.”_

_“We’re just worried ‘bout you, cockle.”_ )

And even that had dwindled down over the months, just like every other aspect of Yaz’s life.

Back then, she had been only a few steps away from another downward spiral when the Doctor had literally fallen into her life, so going down that familiar road again after she had left them wasn’t really a surprise. Still, fuelled by the emptiness the alien’s unexpected absence had left inside her, it turned out worse than ever before. 

The wake up call came when it was already too late. So lost in her unrelenting search, in the desperation she told herself was nothing but dedication and determination, Yaz didn’t notice how she in fact had barely left the TARDIS for weeks on end. And why would she? The ship cared enough for her to create rooms to her liking and keep the kitchen stocked with anything she needed - which wasn’t much these days. And then her Mum had called to let her know a letter had come for her from the force.

Of course they had decided to let her go after not coming in for a month without a word.

In a knee-jerk reaction, she had shut off her phone and made the TARDIS lock her doors for three weeks after that, ignoring every bang and shout against it while she completely succumbed to her frenzied research. After all, she couldn’t be truly depressed if she could still get herself to do things, right?

(The TARDIS had started giving off annoying whirrs when her blood sugar got too low after she had passed out on the floor of the console room after forgetting to eat for almost thirty hours. Twice.)

It had been a rare lucid moment when two and a half weeks into her new hermit life she had looked into the mirror and realised the state she was in. Without having showered in that time and barely having eaten anything, Yaz had looked like a shadow of herself. Yet that alone hadn’t brought her back to her senses - it had been the thought of the Doctor seeing her like this when they found each other again.

(When, not if.)

For days she tried to get herself back into some sort of mental and physical state that could deal with the outside world, and with a lot of help from the ship she found herself finally able to face other people again, albeit reluctantly.

(Not counting her demons, of course. Those were still warring every day and fighting over whether sadness or emptiness should be the most prominent feeling of the day. Some days they felt particularly nasty and threw in a good dose of rage as well.)

The inevitable fallout with her family and the boys was still massive, however. 

They managed to make up again in the end, as was to be expected, yet the words and accusations that had been said both out loud and between the lines had still stung and left her unable to breathe when she remembered. Thus under the guise of going somewhere to get treatment for her ‘condition’, Yaz finally moved officially and completely into the TARDIS, making her friends swear to not utter a single word to her family about it.

As it was now after more than five months in the ship, some days were still harder than others. Some nights she still woke up sweat soaked and screaming after dreaming of saving the Doctor and failing again and again. Some mornings she still cried because her bed remained empty despite the phantom touch of cool pale fingers on her skin and warm breath ghosting over her neck.

It didn’t matter. What did matter was that she pushed through it, that she refused to give up. Every day and every new tidbit of information brought her closer to her goal, to the Doctor, she just knew it. And if she’d spend the next twenty years searching, then so be--

She was ripped out of her thoughts when her fingers brushed a stray note and, picking it up gently, Yaz tried to find out its original place from the words written on it. By now knowing the parts of the console by heart, at least by the names she had come up with for everything, she made quick work of it and pinned the blue paper back to the small lever right next to a series of red buttons. 

Which were also barely visible under the mess of papers and notes strewn about. At least there was a method to her madness.

There definitely was. 

Biting her lip, Yaz wondered if she should give flying her another try. There still were some combinations of buttons and levers she hadn’t tried out yet after all. Someday she just had to find the secret to piloting the ship, and then she would find the Doctor and…

(Hidden safely in her backpack was her laptop with an Excel sheet filled with a calculation of a million different orders to push and pull things, each one she had already tried neatly greyed out. It was her most prized possession and she carried it with her wherever she went. 

Not that she left the TARDIS much these days despite feeling slightly more in control of everything.)

No, she had already done enough for the day in that regard. Out of thirteen failed attempts, one set off the sprinklers she didn’t know were there and another had made the bathroom disappear, so she had had her fair share of trouble for today. 

Checking her phone for the time, she was surprised to see it was barely past four in the afternoon. There had to be something else to do before the TARDIS would remind her of dinner time, there just had to. She couldn’t allow herself to slack and lose focus, she’d never find her like that.

The Doctor was out there.

She had to find her.

But what if she didn’t want to be found? What if she wasn’t waiting for Yaz to find her, what if she was actually glad she got rid of them, especially of her, what if--

No, that were the demons talking, poking and prodding at her anxiety so they could revel in watching her cry and gasp for breath, she reminded herself as she started rubbing the inside of her left palm with shaky fingers. 

Not today, assholes.

It took a few more minutes until Yaz felt like she had her screaming mind and rapidly beating heart back under control, but in the end she managed. She always did. The TARDIS beeped approvingly around her and she couldn’t help the smile forming on her lips as she granted herself one more moment of reprieve before she threw herself into work again. 

By force of habit, her fingers started playing with her necklaces. 

While she felt some sort of comfort in touching the letters, she felt silly for it all the same. 

Y and Z, Yaz and...

( _“What’s the Z for? Finally got a new crush?”_

_“Shut up, Son, you wouldn’t understand.”_ )

They were all out of D’s when she had looked at the display, even searched every last corner of the store for a stray one someone might’ve left carelessly in her sudden desperation. Yet she had felt compelled to buy a set of necklaces the second she had seen them hanging there, anxiety wrapping itself around her throat that if she wouldn’t have anything tangible to connect the Doctor to she could lose every bit of memory of her any given moment.

She couldn’t let that happen. Ever.

So she had done the next best thing, quite literally. Z was the closest to her Y, and that was what she wanted, wasn’t it? For the Doctor to be as close to her as possible. Again.

Sure, X was just as close, but it looked too much of a cross which in turn reminded her too much of… No, an X wasn’t an option for the Doctor. A Z was like a lightning bolt, a perfect symbol of how she had crashed through the roof and into Yaz’s life, how she was a force of nature, full of energy and equally unpredictable. 

(Even after ten months she refused to speak in past tense of her. She wasn’t dead, couldn’t be dead. Yaz was sure that if she had actually died on Gallifrey she must’ve felt something, anything, the slightest ripple through space and time. The Doctor couldn’t die without the whole universe feeling it somehow. _Especially_ her.)

All things considered, it was more inconspicuous and thus better than a D since she knew her mum would absolutely freak if she saw her wearing something indicating the Doctor’s presence in her life after everything.

So she had bought the two letters under Sonya’s watchful and worried eyes. They had burnt a hole through her pocket all the way back to the TARDIS, cheap costume jewellery weighing not even a dozen grams but heavy enough to tie her back to Earth. Not that she wanted to be there, particularly.

After wearing them for half a year and never once taking them off, the fake silver had faded to copper tones on the underside from the constant exposure to soap, sweat, and tears. The front would soon be following suit from her constant touches. Maybe she would replace them someday with actual silver necklaces, but she didn’t exactly have an income right now.

Maybe she got the chance to give the Doctor her Y one. If she was into that sorta thing. Yaz worried her lower lip wondering if the alien would laugh at her and her soppiness.

Working on keeping herself busy again, she pushed herself off the console and grabbed her backpack, settling at the desk the TARDIS had procured for her a few weeks back. For the lack of actual seats in the console room but nevertheless outright refusing to do her research somewhere else, the ship had finally taken mercy on her when the strain in her back had gotten too painful. 

She had just started up her laptop to check for any new Google alerts when there was a knock at the door. 

Furrowing her eyebrows, Yaz glared at it for a long moment. She wasn’t expecting anyone with the boys already having done their routine check-up on her yesterday.

(They called it ‘visiting a friend for a cuppa’ but she could see it in their faces plain as day that despite undoubtedly caring about her they were uncomfortable around her and her rainbow light producing notes.)

Knowing the light was visible from the outside, she still decided to sit this one out and pretend she wasn’t in. Another round of knocks, another round she waited out, holding her breath as if that would make her visitor leave faster.

Yet somehow the TARDIS had different plans and with a soft click, the door cracked open. Shocked, Yaz threw her head up to the ceiling and was just about to cuss out her traitorous ship, but the words got stuck in her throat as she saw who had poked their head inside with a broad grin.

A broad grin she definitely didn’t share. 

Slamming her notebook shut, she got up from her seat and leant back against the console right opposite the door, arms crossed over her chest and jaw firmly set.

"Jack. What're you doing here?" 

"Now that is a warm welcome if I ever saw one", he drawled and without waiting for her to ask him inside, he closed the door behind him and took a look around, whistling quietly between his teeth, "Gotta hand it to you, kid, this place is… I wouldn't say a mess, but definitely something."

Instant protectiveness of her home rose up inside her and she gritted her teeth in an effort to not lash out instinctively. "I repeat: What are you doing here?" 

Sometimes this new coldness to her voice still surprised and shocked her, but Jack clearly didn’t need to know that.

In turn, he raised his hands in surrender as he sauntered closer. "Woah, what's it with the hostility today? That can't be a Northerner thing, the silver fox offered me a cuppa at least. With a smile even!"

"The last time you appeared marked the beginning of everything going to shit”, she replied with an obviously fake smile, words dripping with sarcasm, “so forgive me my wariness."

The American spread out his arms in front of her and by force of habit her eyes flitted over his whole body to check for weapons. "Hey, I was just trying to help! It's not my fault if she decides not to listen, even tho I'm not the least bit surprised. They’ve always been a bit pig-headed."

Now he _definitely_ was on thin ice. "One last time, Jack, what do you want? Cos if you've come here to insult the woman I lo- the Doctor, you better leave right now."

He even had the bloody cheek to quirk his eyebrows at her. "Or what? You wanna suffocate me with sticky notes? Can't say I've died like this before, sounds tempting."

Well, small graces, at least he didn’t comment on her slip-up. However that didn’t keep her from almost snarling, her fists clenched tightly between her arms and rips, her nails undoubtedly leaving dark red imprints already. Taking one more deep breath to calm herself down, she proceeded to silently stare at him, head slightly cocked to the side and eyebrows raised high.

Finally, he got the gist. "I see, no more small talk, let’s get down to business then”, rubbing his palms together, Jack began grinning from ear to ear, “I come bearing good news and bad news, which do you wanna hear first?" The way he stuffed his hands in his coat pockets and rocked on the balls of his feet reminded her painfully of the Doctor.

Forcing all that down for the time being, Yaz just looked blankly at him. It was all the same to her, to be honest. "I don't care, dealer's choice."

"Cheery", he shrugged at last but continued on anyway, "Bad news is, the Daleks are here and if we don't stop them both Earth and the Universe are in grave danger and… Why don't you look alarmed?" 

She looked away at his absolutely justified question. Why didn't she feel at least a tiny bit of fear settling inside her stomach? Where was the coiling dread and the subsequent adrenaline rush that had always accompanied predicaments like that? 

While Yaz was still wondering if there was anything that still mattered enough to her to have actual emotions about - apart from finding the Doctor -, Jack got bored by the silence hanging in the room and clapped his hands right in her line of sight to get her attention again. 

Their eyes met and Yaz saw something in them she couldn’t really pinpoint. Was that elation? Happiness? Was that what this feeling looked like? She had forgotten at some point, probably.

"Okay, anyway, we're gonna have a serious talk about your lack of normal human responses later, now to the good news."

Something plugged at her heartstrings and made a faint melody drift through her blood, and her curiosity was fuelled by his giddy smile, yet she refused to play his games and ask. He did come here because he wanted her to know something, so he might as well just outright tell her.

This time, her lack of response didn’t deter him for a bit, the grin never faltering. 

"I know where she is."

Oh. 

_There_ was the adrenaline. 

**Author's Note:**

> I can't wait for Yaz and Jack becoming absolute bros I'm so ready.
> 
> Just as ready as I am for feedback :D So, did you like it? Pls let me know!


End file.
